I Haven't Forgotten You
by Steve the Icecube
Summary: A collection of oneshots that may or may not be canon. They could be what-ifs, slightly changed aspects of canon, or a general oneshot about canon. Requests will be accepted but not necessarily written. Most recent chapter: Featherstorm of ShadowClan, her thoughts after her first mate's death.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: A challenge to write 900 words about a forgotten character: Webfoot.**

**I made it about him joining the elders so young: He was an elder in The Sight, but he's slightly younger than Cloudtail.**

I don't know why, I just felt older than I was.

I think the journey and fights got to me in the end. I was never really a healthy kit in the first place, my mother thought it would be better when I got older.

It didn't, really. I stayed weak, always second best. Never the best warrior or apprentice, I never got on with other Clans, or stood out in battle as being someone to worry about.

They should just leave each other alone, the Clans, or friendships and romances will form more than they do already. Look at what happened with Crowfeather and Leafpool! Lying to their kits, their Clans, causing heartbreak and sorrow.

It isn't like the Clans needed each other before we moved to the lake. We were fine by ourselves, feuding and fighting, stealing prey, herbs and even kits when times got tough! It wasn't by the warrior code, but it was what we did.

Well, maybe when we were starving, we needed help. But didn't everyone? We could never have shared. We needed every spare piece of prey back then, but we couldn't send out long patrols, because our cats were too weak to hunt much at all, and we couldn't eat rabbits, as they were poisoned.

But when we were safe, we didn't need ThunderClan, we needed a leader. And I thought that the leader for us was Mudclaw.

He had been deputy for a long time after Deadfoot died.

He was my mentor before that, and Crowfeather's, however disloyal and sharp-tongued he is, he has good skills that Mudclaw taught him, not Onewhisker, an inexperienced warrior with a friendship with ThunderClan's leader.

Sure, we owed a favour to the tom, or two, maybe, but making friends with him, and maintaining that friendship would make us look like we depended on ThunderClan a lot more than we did.

And if any Clan has an oversized ego, it's ThunderClan.

Living in a prey-rich forest, trees to cover them and a safe hollow with steep edges, so steep warriors could be killed if they fell, rather than our own alcove in a hill, open to attack.

Fighting any cat who they think crosses their poorly marked borders, making out they want peace, but still fighting anyone.

So, Mudclaw would be better. He had no friendships in other Clans at all, had been deputy for a while, until Tallstar apparently appointed Onewhisker deputy before he died.

I didn't believe him, of course. There were few cats who saw him die. Firestar, Brambleclaw, Barkface and Onewhisker.

A kittypet leader, his friend, the son of Tigerstar and an old medicine cat. Not much to go by when you have a much more powerful warrior who was deputy and rightfully leader, well, in my opinion.

So we fought for the right to have the real deputy as leader, the one who had proved his loyalty to WindClan many times over.

And we lost. Our leader crushed by a falling tree, it must have been a sign from StarClan that he _wasn't _meant to be leader as I had thought.

I tried to make it up to Onestar, over and over.

But I always seemed to get back on his bad side.

I didn't want to be. I was just a warrior, younger than him, who had a weak immune system and had to leave the service of my Clan, all I could do was sit in the nursery, telling a story about an ancestor I made up to look a bit cooler in the kits' eyes.

But it never worked. They loved my storytelling, but by the time they were made apprentices, they didn't want stories, and boring elders with problems with ticks and fleas, seemingly too old to change their own bedding.

They wanted battles, blood and hunting.

Too much of that for one kit. He went the wrong way, gaining injuries that appeared from nowhere, hurting inside because he never thought he was good enough.

He tried to change to be someone to follow, but he did it the wrong way.

Some cats aren't born for greatness.

Or born to be remembered, good or bad.

When he knew good wasn't working, he tried bad.

But he still wasn't cut out for it.

I wish he'd seen me as I saw him, I wish he'd given me a chance to be a father figure.

He died in his sleep, covered in wounds. I don't recall a vigil.

And he didn't go to StarClan.

WindClan wasn't his Clan, so StarClan couldn't be.

He went to the darkness, and didn't spend long there.

Just shoved aside for ThunderClan.

Mates and kits.

And I'd tell them, nothing comes if you don't try. But if you try and lose, you'll never get it.

I tried to make the right choice about who was the leader. I tried.

But I failed to see it through, win the trust of my leader, and I could never win trust again.

Never win a battle the way I could before.

Never hunt rabbits, chase them across the moorlands.

I made the wrong choice, and I paid for it.

I'll be remembered as an elder, or a traitorous warrior, or a weak apprentice.

Never strong.

Never strong.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: No, I do not think that this would have happened in canon. I love Ashfur! These oneshots were the product of my lack of computer for ages. They aren't very long, but I'll update regularly.**

**So, here: What if Ashfur tried a lot harder to get Squirrelflight? Takes place just after Squirrelflight breaks up with Ashfur.**

"Squirrelflight," Ashfur mewed pleasantly to the she-cat, though his pain showed in his eyes, "Could we go for a walk, talk this over for a bit?" He requested.

Squirrelflight nodded sadly. She hated doing this to Ashfur, but she knew that she loved Brambleclaw more. They padded out of the thorn bush, into the bustling camp. Most cats bore scars and open wounds on their pelts, but everyone was helping in camp nonetheless. Whitepaw was helping her denmate over to a nest near to where Leafpool's den was. "What's wrong with Birchpaw?" Squirrelflight questioned.

"His eye got almost torn up and it could get infected." Ashfur mewed. "Leafpool said he should rest." He nodded to Dustpelt as he passed. "Me and Squirrelflight are going hunting." He mewed.

Dustpelt nodded. "I hope you catch something. I'm worried that the prey was scared away by the badgers." He padded over to Whitepaw to help his son.

The two cats padded out of the camp, greeted by a luscious green that contrasted with the destruction in camp vastly. The undergrowth was a little trampled, but it would heal with time.

Ashfur walked along in silence. The silence around them was slightly scary, no birds were singing and Squirrelflight could hear nothing but her own paws on the undergrowth and Ashfur's. It was a muted sound, slightly uneven from Ashfur's small limp that had been caused in the battle. The grey tom was heading in the general direction of the lake, but he span round at a random moment, his tail lightly brushing his former mate's face.

"You love me, right, Squirrelflight?" He pleaded.

Squirrelflight shook her head sadly. "I used to. I'm sorry, but I love Brambleclaw now."

Pain flashed in Ashfur's dark blue eyes, distracting her from the brief flash of Ashfur's claws sinking into the ground. "No, Squirrelflight, you love me!" He snarled, slashing a paw across one of her paws.

She squeaked in surprise and pain, but kept back from yowling as she was bowled over onto her back. _Why are you doing this? I used to be in love with you. You believed me when I came back from the journey. You comforted me. And above all, you're my Clanmate. No Clanmate should hurt another. No one should hurt anyone else over lost love._

She regained her momentary loss of sight to see Ashfur standing over her, his claws at her throat. "You love me, right Squirrelflight?" He asked again.

Looking at the hard look in Ashfur's eyes, there was love in there too, regret. It would break her heart to lose Brambleclaw, but she knew she had no choice. "Yes."


	3. Chapter 3

Featherstorm sat in the warriors den, thinking wistfully about her former mate.

Hal, sweet Hal, a kittypet who had not been that curious about the forest or the Clans, he hadn't wanted to leave his twoleg owners, but he'd been curious about the cats and their lives themselves. He wanted to know how they survived leafbare out in the wild, he wanted hunting styles and battle plans, things that Featherstorm, or Featherpaw back then, had thought such a young cat would never need or use in their lives, so she was all too happy to oblige to the wishes of the charming kittypet.

She'd found herself more and more enchanted by him. Everything he said was so ShadowClan-like, perfectly polite but snarky at the same time. It reminded her a little of the kit she was good friends with, Blizzardkit. Except Hal... He was different to Blizzardkit, or anyone she knew. She was a bit like a mentor to him, except she could only spend a little time 'training' him every day. She had other things to do, she was still an apprentice herself. Hal had been a very good apprentice, though she'd reasoned that he didn't have much to do. He always practiced everything he told her, and then, after a little while, he'd start actually doing the stuff and give evidence. He'd get his friends to come and practice with him in front of her, and a few times he caught prey on ThunderClan territory. She'd told him not to, but he'd always tell her that it wasn't her Clan that would starve, and he made sure that it was kittypet scent that was left on ThunderClan territory. And then they'd share the prey.

After a while, she found herself falling in love with him. He was just so nice, and he went out of his way to make sure she was happy when she was meeting with him. They'd share everything he caught, and she found that she was spending more and more time with him, especially when all his friends started going to the cutter. He was alone a lot after that started happening, and he just became more important than her Clan.

She became a warrior, and was named Featherstorm for being loyal to her Clan and being a great hunter, when in all truth she wasn't that loyal to her Clan, she was loyal to her friend. She'd stopped thinking of him as a kittypet, because he didn't act like one at all, he was more like a few of the loners that she had met by the borders when on border patrols. She didn't meet him in his twoleg garden anymore, but she met him in the little space between the border and twolegplace.

And one day, she found herself expecting kits. Everyone seemed to presume they were a loner's, because everyone knew about her spending a lot of time in twolegplace. She was surprised to find that no one seemed to mind. Well, except Blizzardwing. He seemed sad, but she hadn't thought much of it, because she wasn't that close to any of the toms in the Clan. No one showed any intrest in being her mate, or ever had, except Hal. Her friendship with Blizzardwing had faded when he had become an apprentice.

Her pregnancy was not hard on her, there was another queen, Brightflower. She had not been a queen before, but she had always been a good friend to her before. Brightflower gave birth to three kits. They were sweet and beautiful, and she got to name one of them. She named the little dark grey kit Yellowkit, after one of Hal's friends. Yellow had been a nice she-cat. She was hit by a monster on the Thunderpath. Brightflower had seemed curious, but had not questioned her reasoning. The other two kits were named Nutkit and Rowankit, and they were very sweet.

Not even two sunrises later, Featherstorm had given birth to her own kits. Raggedkit and Scorchkit. Both were toms, and Raggedkit looked so much like Hal. It was then that Featherstorm had decided that she couldn't be Hal's mate any longer. Her own kits would be too ashamed of the fact that their father was nothing but a kittypet. Because to all the other Clan cats, that was all he was. That and a prey-stealer, of course.

She really pitied her kits as they grew up. They were ridiculed as being kittypets, even though there was no proof that their father was a kittypet at all, everyone seemed to think he was. She got closer with Blizzardwing, and he admitted to liking her a little more than as a friend. She told him about how she had been with Hal. That she wasn't ready to have a mate again.

And now her kits had grown up, and Raggedpelt had gone looking for his father.

The kittypets, rogues and loners had attacked ShadowClan.

It was Hal's idea. He attacked her Clan.

But he paid the price. He was killed by his son.

And Featherstorm's mate, her first love, the father of her two beautiful kits, was gone.

Dead.

And the night was cold, because she never said that she was sorry.

**AN: Featherstorm features in Yellowfang's Secret. Every cat has a story, you just never see most of them.**


End file.
